


You're My Lov-

by Alyson_Page



Series: Birdtalker [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond, Batman: The Animated Series, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Drinking, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, It's a date admit it, Let's Get Physical, M/M, Slice of Life, chili dogs, life is a circus, sharing ice cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyson_Page/pseuds/Alyson_Page
Summary: Jason raised the bag, locking the door behind him. “Chili dog?”“Thanks,” Tim smiled, pulling himself up and making space for Jason to sit.Jason puttered around the kitchen, pouring them each a glass of water, handing the one without ice to Tim before settling in, placing his feet up on the table and passing Tim the messily wrapped chili dog.“What’s wrong?” Jason asked between mouthfuls. “You’ve got something on your mind.”Tim shook his head, swallowing thickly before setting his unfinished portion aside. “It’s nothing. I have an…event I have to attend this weekend in Bruce’s stead. Not looking forward to it.”
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Birdtalker [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677238
Comments: 162
Kudos: 468





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all you loveliest of lovelies. Here it is, this is the piece I had originally planned on writing, I can't believe I ended up writing four installments to lead up to it. I hope you enjoy!

You came like a resolution

Under a starry sky

You are my one solution

To the mystery of why

My Lover

By Birdtalker

* * *

Tim was stretched out on his couch, toes digging into the cushions as he worked through the aches and pains from his patrol. Hair still damp from his shower, it caught the raised threading of the fabric, pulling slightly as he arched and twisted, breathing deep into the spaces that throbbed.

His patrol had not been abnormally strenuous, but he had been unusually distracted, and he misgauged the height of a building and shot his grapple too low, clipping the edge of the roof with his hip. He ended up tumbling across the top, slamming into the exposed AC unit, which is where he laid for longer than he needed to, gears spinning.

When he relaxed again, letting his body sink into the plush give of his cushions, he turned his attention towards his coffee table. He eyed his laptop and the remote for the TV, tapping his fingers between them, torn with how best to distract himself until he was tired enough to sleep.

He opted for television, flipping through the channels until he settled on an old black and white movie that flickered in soothing cool tones in the low lights of the living room.

The click of his front door unlocking brought Tim up to his elbows, peering over the back of the couch to see Jason sliding in, paper bag in hand. The key had been bestowed upon Jason shortly after their reconciliation, Tim’s new apartment not in a place where window side entrances would go unnoticed and had required traditional comings and goings.

Jason raised the bag, locking the door behind him. “Chili dog?”

“Thanks,” Tim smiled, pulling himself up and making space for Jason to sit.

Jason puttered around the kitchen, pouring them each a glass of water, handing the one without ice to Tim before settling in, placing his feet up on the table and passing Tim the messily wrapped chili dog.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked between mouthfuls. “You’ve got something on your mind.”

Tim shook his head, swallowing thickly before setting his unfinished portion aside. “It’s nothing. I have an…event I have to attend this weekend in Bruce’s stead. Not looking forward to it.”

“Gotta schmooz and play nice at some stuffy gala?”

“I wish it were that simple,” Tim mumbled into his water.

“It can’t be that bad,” Jason reasoned, stretching his arms out against the back of the seat. “You’ve been doing this crap since you could talk.”

“I have two tickets,” Tim cringed.

“Ohhh,” Jason shifted, nodding with understanding, “you need a date.”

Tim dropped his head back, letting out a long exhale, “That’s the second worst part, yeah,”

“Just take Tam, she goes to those things with you all the time.”

“That’s why I can’t take her.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, the same stress that plagued him earlier seeping back into his head. “She won’t do any more events with me, says it’s ruining her chances to get a real date. Apparently, her potential suitors see me as a threat.”

“Yeah, I know Vale has mentioned a few times the ‘ _are they/aren’t they’_ aspects of your relationship. I could see why that would suck for Tam.”

“Sucks for Tam, but not for me?”

“You could get anyone you actually wanted,” Jason pointed out, “no matter what the press had to say on the subject.”

“Vicki Vale barely meets the qualifications of gossip rag material,” Tim muttered bitingly, “You shouldn’t be reading anything she prints.”

“Oh,” Jason sighed with mock despair, “But how else would I keep up with your busy life? I clip all the articles and save them in a little scrapbook, it brings me so much comfort in my times of loneliness.”

“You’re disgusting,” Tim chortled, grabbing the debris, and taking it to kitchen.

“Yeah, well mine’s a joke, you’re the one with all the photos.”

Tim opened the fridge, scanning for anything sweet to fix his sudden craving. “That’s art.”

“It’s criminal,” Jason grinned, watching Tim turn to the cabinets, sifting through the shelves. “There’s ice cream in the freezer.”

The cabinets closed with a snap, and Tim opened the freezer, spotting several pints of the frozen dessert. He pulled out the chocolate chip cookie dough, tearing off the plastic seal and snagging two spoons from the drawer with an inquisitive eyebrow directed at Jason.

“When did you do that?” Tim asked, reclaiming his seat on the couch, handing Jason a spoon.

“Couple weeks ago,” he shrugged, scooting close and scooping out a bite. “You always want something sweet after chili dogs.”

Tim smacked Jason’s spoon away with a sharp clink as it made another dive, taking up the large bite of cookie dough for himself and slipping it between his lips before Jason could protest. “Back to the topic at hand.” He said, once it had melted enough to swallow.

“Stephanie?” Jason suggested.

“Same problem as with Tam.”

Jason hummed, take another large spoonful, “Why don’t you take Damian? Bruce would love that.”

“I actually already asked,” Tim groaned, mortified that he had been reduced to such a suggestion to begin with, “He has an overnight science trip with his class this weekend.”

“And Cass-”

“Still in Hong Kong.”

“This is why Bruce does what he does,” Jason pointed out, jabbing his spoon wildly towards the window in the vague direction of Wayne Manor. “A different girl on his arm at every event. No one expects any more or less than that.”

“I don’t want to treat anyone like they’re a disposable floozy,” Tim insisted, the idea of mimicking Bruce’s playboy persona nauseating. Media regarding his personal relations hadn’t taken a turn until he turned eighteen. His arrival into adulthood eliminated the red tape that had previously surrounded the subject and Vicki Vale abandoned her usual writings calling into question his qualifications regarding Wayne Enterprise work, to whose bed his shoes were under. Now, only a couple months shy of his nineteenth birthday she had yet to publish anything halfway resembling the truth. “I could raffle off the extra ticket at work maybe. But then, I’ll probably end up with some starstruck intern.”

“Also, not ideal.”

“I’ll figure it out, I have a few more days. I can sleep on it tonight, think with a clear head tomorrow.”

Jason picked up the ice cream, recapping it and fitting it snug into the freezer. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Tim asked, even as he followed Jason to the door. He had always offered on Jason’s late-night visits, the spare room always made up should he accept, but Jason had yet to do so, always politely declining.

“Thanks, but I should get back to mine. Need to shower.”

“Which you couldn’t possibly do here,” Tim dared to tease, hoping that unbidden thoughts of Jason under the spray of his shower did not show on his face.

“Those fancy low-flow shower heads you got in this place aren’t my style,” Jason brushed off.

“Okay, well, the offer always stands,” Tim smiled softly, opening up the door. “I’ll see you later, get home safe.”

Jason smiled back, stepping out into the hall… only to swivel back after half a step. “I could go with you,” he blurted.

“You?” Tim blinked, hand tightening on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” Jason shrugged, regaining his casual demeanor, “I’m floozy material.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, maybe not a floozy, but I could be your date,” Jason offered again, his tone genuine. “Besides, we have a good time together, it might make some boring play or opera more interesting for you.”

“Yeah,” Tim let out slowly, the truly bothersome part of the situation rearing its head. “That brings me back to the first worst part. It’s the opening night for _Cirque De La Lune_.”

Jason paled, his mouth pulling together. “No wonder Bruce bailed.”

“You don’t have to come,” Tim assured, offering the out Jason deserved. No one close to Dick should ever have to go to the circus, but Tim had the unlucky job of being a public figure with certain expectations. “I can go by myself.”

“No, I said I’d go with you and I meant it,” Jason insisted, holding Tim’s still hesitant gaze. “Saturday?”

Tim bobbed his head, slow and still taken aback, “Show is at eight. You’ll still have time to patrol after if you wanted.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” Jason said, starting to leave again before turning once more, “Unless you want to get dinner first?”

“No,” Tim swallowed, “seven would be great.”

“Okay, see you Saturday. Goodnight, Tim.”

“Night,” Tim returned, shutting the door, and sliding the locks before forcing himself to stay upright and off his knees. The weekend that had loomed so daunting ahead now had a bright glimmer of possibility dancing around its edges.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason couldn’t help but think Tim cut a much more impressive figure in a suit. As he got older, his broad chest reminded him too much of Bruce, who carried himself with his careless playboy airs that Jason had no trace off, leaving him feeling exposed and out of sorts. Tim, as usual, looked ready to step onto the set of some photo shoot, lean and shimmering in a bespoke burgundy suit, offset with a deep navy button up and pocket square, drawing out the darker speckling in his blue eyes.
> 
> Relieved that he had had opted for an all-black look for himself to avoid clashing, he met Tim halfway down the steps, giving him a fleeting hug and what he hoped was not too breathless a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, sorry for the delay, been a busy week! So this is the verse that made me go I need to do a Batman story, I heard this song and all I could think of were "Robins". This is song that started it all but this was the specific inspiration. Please enjoy!

Clowns they don't know they’re crazy  
Shooting themselves out of their guns  
We laugh and we cry as the acrobats fly  
Wondering if they're crying too

My Lover

By Birdtalker

* * *

Jason had arrived too early. He had run early the whole day, waking up hours before he needed to, requiring a dozen extra things to distract himself lest he start getting ready too soon, which is what he ended up doing anyway. The outfit of choice had been set out since Thursday, hung on his bedroom door with a black trash bag pulled over it to keep covered and lint free, and he spent a better part of an hour staring at it before he snapped.

More out of his element than he had been when he posed to get into Tim’s office, he hadn’t gotten dressed for a real event since he was a teenager with Bruce. The benefit then had been that Alfred had done all the work, and it was easy to look like a bright and promising young man in a snappy little suit. But he offered to go with Tim in lieu of him finding a date, a proper date who would know how to dress and how to act, not _Jason._ Not Jason temporally losing his mind and thinking he could somehow use the word ‘date’ and not have it disrupt his entire equilibrium.

Even if it wasn’t real— even if it was just Jason being a good friend not letting Tim go alone— it didn’t change the fact that he wanted it to be real. He picked out clothes with the hope to impress, he purchased a black-colored pomade to blend his white fringe into the rest of his hair, he had even been, much to his embarrassment, pressed into the purchase of cologne, but it was thankfully still packed tight in it’s box.

He took his bike, not thinking until he was almost at Tim’s that maybe the car would have been the more appropriate choice and pulled up almost thirty minutes early. He idled, looking up to the many windows that could possible be shielding Tim as he got ready.

Jason urged the throttle, driving to the convenience store a block and half away. Overdressed for even a corner store in the nicest part of Gotham, he swept the aisles with a foreign sense of unease. He picked up anything that caught his eye, placing the items back with a resigned dissatisfaction, looping through aisles twice more before committing to a purchase.

With two types of M&M’s, a pack of Starburst, and a tin of mints sequestered to various jacket pockets Jason headed back to Tim’s apartment, going the long way around so that he would be facing the correct direction as he pulled up. Dismounting almost clumsily, the tension still rocketing through him, he removed the helmet and crossed the sidewalk to fetch Tim when the main entrance door creeped open, Tim meeting Jason’s slightly surprised gaze with a tentative smile.

Jason couldn’t help but think Tim cut a much more impressive figure in a suit. As he got older, his broad chest reminded him too much of Bruce, who carried himself with his careless playboy airs that Jason had no trace off, leaving him feeling exposed and out of sorts. Tim, as usual, looked ready to step onto the set of some photo shoot, lean and shimmering in a bespoke burgundy suit, offset with a deep navy button up and pocket square, drawing out the darker speckling in his blue eyes.

Relieved that he had had opted for an all-black look for himself to avoid clashing, he met Tim halfway down the steps, giving him a fleeting hug and what he hoped was not too breathless a smile.

“Sorry about the bike,” Jason mumbled, “I understand if you’d rather drive.”

“The bike is fine,” Tim smiled, slipping on the spare helmet and waiting for Jason to take his seat before sliding on behind him, well-practiced at hitching the ride on the back of someone else’s motorcycle. “Once you’re at the stadium, go through parking Gate A. The exit off Otisburg will get you closest.”

“Aye-aye, captain,” Jason teased behind his visor, setting them on the course to the home of the Gotham Knights.

The dome-covered field was illuminated with dancing colored spotlights. Beams of white flashed back and forth against the sky, drawing attention to the night’s event. Jason took Tim’s directions, gliding in and out of traffic and following the signs to the correct entrance.

As they eased towards the parking gate, Tim shifted, pulling out a gold-colored pass and handing it over to the attendant, who swiped it with a grating kind of smile, before passing it and a printed ticket back over. Once in the parking lot, habit made Jason park at the far deserted end of the lot, which was otherwise filled with high end Mercedes, Audis, and Lamborghinis.

Tim didn’t appear to mind the distance; he followed suit with Jason in storing the helmets and set off at a leisurely pace across the pavement. The elevators were stupidly roped off with red velvet ropes and gold stanchions, a well-dressed security guard standing sentinel to let Gotham’s upper class to their private seating.

“Good evening, Mr. Drake-Wayne.”

“Hello, Travis,” Tim smiled, stepping through as Travis unhooked the rope for them, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You missed most of this last season, I was starting to worry.”

“I was working out of state a lot this year,” Tim explained, his smile remaining genuine, “though I appreciate your concern.”

Travis nodded, returning to his post. “Very glad to hear it was nothing serious then. Enjoy the show, Sirs.”

The elevator doors closed, Tim pressing the button for the field level, several times more than what was needed. “They’ve set up special booths on the lower level in lieu of the sky boxes. Aerial view is good for a game, but I guess less ideal for tumbling,” Tim paused, pushing the button once more. “Travis has worked here for ten years.”

“He seems nice,” Jason observed.

Tim shot him a quick glance, his finger fidgeting before burying them in his pockets. “He is. Knows everyone’s names, remembers birthdays.”

“Are you okay?” Jason asked carefully, the lift dinging brightly. “You’re doing that thing when you’re on edge and trying to hide it.”

“I’m fine,” Tim clipped, stepping smoothly out and towards the down sloping ramp.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you used to be better at lying.”

Tim smirked at that, a painting of coy sadness, “I can still lie circles around you.”

The private box that was set up on the field and raised to match the level of the constructed stage, the main stadium lights dimmed to allow the theatrical lighting to shower the arena with starry purples, blues, and silvers. The other Gotham socialites occupying private boxes greeted Tim as he passed: the women smiling sweetly and simpering their hellos and the men raised their glasses, platinum and gold cufflinks catching the light. The staff member that led them to their seats smiled cordially, handing them a drink and food menu before trotting off to let them deliberate in peace.

“Order whatever you like, it just goes on Bruce’s tab.”

“Great,” Jason guffawed, “do they have gold-dusted caviar?”

Tim raised an eyebrow sharply, setting the menu down. “They would if I asked.”

Jason rolled his eyes, scanning his own menu for something that sounded the least pretentious. “You have too much power.”

“I am the most benevolent overlord, thank you very much.”

“I’ll be sure to run some follow-up with Tam, make sure you’re as benevolent as you say.”

The waiter retuned a short time later, bringing a chilled bottle of spring water and glasses, “Is there anything I can get for you, Gentlemen?”

“Whatever the chef has on special,” Tim replied, handing his list of options back over, “thank you.”

“Of course, and for you, Sir?”

“The brie burger, medium-rare. Gherkins on the side, please,” Jason shuffled the Wine and Spirits list on top of his food menu and passed his over to join Tim’s. “And whatever drink you have that is most expensive.”

Tim appraised with a look of surprise and perhaps pride. “Going for the hard stuff tonight?”

“If you can’t beat them…”

“Get a pleasant buzz?”

“Something like that,” Jason sighed, looking around at the still tittering audience around them. “So, are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

Tim deflated, sinking down into his seat with a graceful collapse, his arms and legs losing their rigidity. “I haven’t told you about my first-time meeting Dick.”

“Can’t have been worse than mine,” Jason reasoned, his voice dropping ever so slightly.

“No” Tim smiled wistfully, “it was really great. It was one of the rare times my parents were in town. They took me to the circus, I met Dick before the show, got a picture. He was as sweet and charming as you can probably imagine… And then his parents died.”

Jason nearly choked, his throat going dry, “You were there the night they fell? Does Dick know? _Does Bruce_?”

“They know that I’ve been to Haly’s Circus. They don’t know that was the night I was there.”

“Tim, why wouldn’t you say something? You should not be taking Bruce’s place with this, _none_ of you should be here. This is definition of a trauma trigger.”

“I’ve had a long time in therapy to deal with the circus nightmares,” Tim tried to assuage him.

Jason frowned hard, leaning closer. “Then why are you still on edge?”

“I just…” Tim hesitated, letting out a shaky breath. “I haven’t been to a circus since, that’s all.”

The lights changed, a thundering of drums and flutes flooding from the sound system.

“We can go,” Jason hissed, half standing from his seat, “We can go right now.”

Tim reached out, his fingers tightening around Jason’s wrist with a gentle tug, his free fingers splaying warmly against the palm of his hand. “I’m okay. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”

Jason searched Tim’s face for any crease at the corners of his mouth, any crinkling of his eyes to indicate that Tim wasn’t being honest, but he didn’t find any tells. Instead he twisted his hand, taking Tim’s fully in his own to give what a reaffirming squeeze.

The attendant returned, Jason slipping his hand away to pull down the wooden tray, his too-extravagant-for-a-sports-arena burger was set before him accompanied by a glass tumbler of dark brown liquid. Tim tucked into a pasta dish with a practiced twist of his fork, eyes focusing on the stage as the performance began.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those boys are there for each other my friends, those stupid stupid boys, perfect sweet idiots, I love them. Stay safe, and Sane, and Healthy everyone. Hope you are having a good Holiday season, whatever that may mean for you. Sending love!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am brimming with confidence. And my self-worth is neither here not there,” Jason deflected, “We are talking about you.”
> 
> “But I find you to be a much more interesting topic.”
> 
> “You wanna uncover my mysteries, you’re gonna have to buy me dinner first.”
> 
> “I thought I just did,” Tim teased.
> 
> “That was on Bruce,” Jason reminded him, his hand swinging back in the general direction of the stadium.
> 
> “Well, I’ll be sure to treat the next time we’re out, then you can let me in on all your little secrets.”
> 
> “Mmmm,” Jason whispered, dropping his voice conspiratorially and bringing his finger to his lips, “Not all of them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! The last couple of weeks have been very hectic, so I am so sorry for the delay, but here it is! I hope everyone is having a safe and happy December. And I hope you enjoy this chapter, its a little short but I wanted to drop in a little goodies.

I love when we go walking

Backwards far as we can

My Lover

By Birdtalker

* * *

The performance passed by in a mostly normal and uneventful way. It had very few traditional circus elements, falling along the lines of the more modern artistic French styles, with particularly bendy clowns in sparkling lycra. In lieu of a trapeze act, this show featured a group of tumblers that swung from three sets of gymnastic-style uneven bars, soaring back and forth and flipping past each other with a familiar kind of grace.

Tim watched on, unflinching, though an unseen pull drew him ever so slightly to Jason every time the acrobats took to the forefront. Halfway through the show, Jason had produced the hoarded sweets from his pockets, offering Tim a choice between traditional and peanut M&M’s.

With the yellow packet in hand Tim tore off a careful corner, eyeing Jason as he popped a few of the sweets into his mouth, their server dropping off his third glass of cognac. The first tumbler had been shot back immediately with dinner, the second had taken a couple of gulps, and this one now sat in his hand a little more comfortably, with Jason taking absentminded sips between bites of chocolate. 

As the show came to an end with the lights going down to the symphony of applause, Jason had had five glasses and had dissolved into a slightly wavering, but tactile person. He hadn’t seemed to have lost grip on his major functions, he stepped down from the booth with less coordination than he had when he stepped in; but he remained fully upright, letting his hands close around Tim’s upper arm and hand to help him down, holding him close with an arm slung around his shoulders as they melted into the crowds leaving the venue.

“It was okay, right? You’re okay?” Jason asked, his face half falling into Tim’s hair as they walked.

“I’m fine,” Tim assured him, his own neck edging warm with their proximity. “It was a very good show. I’m a little jealous, actually, they’ve reached a level of athleticism and grace Dick always made me want to achieve.”

Jason bent his head with an adamant shake, “You don’t need to be like Dick.”

“Dick sent the precedent,” Tim pointed out, guiding them back towards the elevator they had come through upon arrival.

They waited silently in the queue, finally filing into the elevator with a group of senior socialites who were recounting their favorite moments in the show, not paying any attention to them in the corner they occupied.

“Dick is good,” Jason said with a loose wave of his free arm once the other group had gone their separate ways, “He has charm, he has flare, it would'a been _nice_ to be Dick. But don’t be Dick when you can be you, Baby Bird: you got us outmatched on so many levels.”

“I don’t have Dick’s dexterity; I don’t have your strength.”

Jason let out a loud snort that echoed around the parking garage, “You’re _plenty_ flexible, and you’ve worked a lot harder at weapon training than Dick has.”

“That’s because I had to. You and Bruce have the strength-”

“We have a _build;_ body types don’t always equate to strength. And you are strong, just because you can’t bench what I can bench doesn’t mean anything. You’ve seen Cass in action, you know that. You work harder and you’re smarter than all of us, stop bein' so hard on yourself.”

“And when did you suddenly become a promotional beacon for self-worth and confidence?” Tim asked, as he eyes Jason’s profile with a humoring tilt in his eyebrows.

“I am brimming with confidence. And my self-worth is neither here not there,” Jason deflected, “We are talking about you.”

“But I find you to be a much more interesting topic.”

“You wanna uncover my mysteries, you’re gonna have to buy me dinner first.”

“I thought I just did,” Tim teased.

“That was on Bruce,” Jason reminded him, his hand swinging back in the general direction of the stadium.

“Well, I’ll be sure to treat the next time we’re out, then you can let me in on all your little secrets.”

“Mmmm,” Jason whispered, dropping his voice conspiratorially and bringing his finger to his lips, “Not all of them.”

They arrived at the bike, Jason humming quietly into Tim’s hair. He snatched up both helmets, latching his one handed and handing the other to Tim. “I’ve got a place in Coventry. It’s the closest drop to your apartment.” Jason said, his free hand resting on the seat of the bike.

“The small unit on Berkeley?”

“That’s the one, Pretty Bird. You can take me there, and I’ll come and get my bike tomorrow morning.” Jason reached out, pulling Tim towards the bike to take the driver’s spot.

Tim leaned against it, taken aback by Jason’s cognitive forethought. It hadn’t occurred to him that Jason would be the one suggesting that he drive: at the very least, Tim thought he would need to do a little convincing, “You’re going to let me drive your bike?”

“Better in your hands than mine,” He shrugged.

Tim smiled, bringing his leg over the side and settling with Jason sliding immediately behind him, his arms wrapping snugly around his middle and his full front pressing against his back.

“Comfy?” Tim asked, starting the engine up with an irrepressible grin.

“Yeah,” Jason gave a muffled grunt, his arms shifting slightly, “Shut up.”

Tim laughed, peeling out of the structure with Jason clinging warmly against him, the summer heat whipping past them as he guided the motorcycle to one of Jason’s lesser used hideaways. Night had set in and it painted a pretty black-purple around the street where the amber glow of the lamps didn’t reach.

Jason let out a heavy exhale, clambering down onto the curb, hands never quite not touching Tim as he dismounted to join him. Tim shucked off his helmet, reaching up to remove Jason’s as he laughed, the air between them filling suddenly with the warm scent of oak and honey.

“You can’t hold your liquor,” Tim smirked, leading him towards the slanting stoop.

“I’m not drunk.”

“Well, you’re most certainly a tick or two past pleasantly buzzed, Jason,” Tim pointed out warmly, “It’s made you very friendly.”

“I am friendly,” Jason argued, grinning wide and lopsided, “We’re friends, we’ve been friendly.”

“You’ll know what I mean when you wake up in the morning, woefully embarrassed that you had to use me as a crutch to get you to the door.”

Jason stepped away defiantly, walking the next few steps on his own, legs steady but arms working a little harder than normal to maintain his balance. His face furrowed as he turned to lean against the railing, eyes darkening. “I don’t drink a lot. Never, usually never, I don’t like it…I don’t like people…my Dad was a drunk-which I know that you must know, so I never really touched the stuff, I’m not good at it…but I was— all those people…”

“You were nervous?” Tim frowned, following him up the steps, “Because of the people?”

“ _Those_ people,” Jason grumbled, his lips pursing, “Bruce’s kind of people. Like when I was a kid and they were judging me, using my very existence as their trite dose of gossip for the night.”

Tim’s lip parted, momentarily lost for words, “I’m sorry…it should have occurred to me that the crowd would make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine-”

“We shouldn’t have gone.”

“I _wanted_ to go with you,” Jason countered, his attention starting to drift, “I just… kind of messed it up.”

“You didn’t mess up anything. And you haven’t done anything offensive,” Tim promised, vying to lighten the mood, “It all could have been worse: you could have had draft beer and your breath could smell like a bar floor.”

“Does it smell?” Jason asked, appearing to have only caught half of what Tim had said. “I have mints!” Jason pulled out the tin of hard white mints, spilling a few as he proffered them out to Tim.

Tim pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, “No thank you, Jason, I’m fine,”

Jason nodded, popping a few in his mouth before tucking the tin away. His mood shifted again, and he leaned forward. “I think...I need to go to bed.”

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Tim whispered back, his fingers pushing a loose strand of hair out of Jason’s face, the waxy quality gliding across his skin. “Why did you cover up your hair?”

Jason let out another hard exhale, a new curl of wintergreen joining his heady woodsy scent. “I wanted to try and look normal for you," he confessed, a low whine scratching against his throat.

Tim blinked, his fingers closing tight around Jason’s front, drawing him closer with a pinched brow. “Jason, you don’t have try to be anything but yourself. I would not have brought you with me tonight if I didn’t want you to be you. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jason huffed, pressing his lips against Tim’s temple, “G’night, Baby Bird.”

Jason swiveled, sliding through the door with the barest of wobbles. Tim let out a shaking breath when he could no longer hear Jason’s footsteps, heading back to the bike, his body charged like a live wire. While Jason was likely to wake tomorrow filled with regret that he had accompanied Tim to the show, Tim would suffer hundreds of nights at the circus if it meant he got moments like this with Jason.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all we are so close to SOMETHING, these boys are almost there I swear, I promise, next chapter is the big moment, hang in there. I love you all. I hope those celebrating have a wonderful day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun dripped in ripples through the curtain, and a heavy weight settled on his raised hip, rocking slightly to rouse him.
> 
> He opened his bleary eyes, turning his head back to spot Stephine leaning over him, frowning tightly.
> 
> “What?” Tim bleated, alarm spreading cold through his suddenly awake body. He pushed forward, Stephanie rolling off with a graceful twist to land beside him on the bed. “Steph, what’s wrong?”
> 
> She reached behind her, bringing around the Gotham Gazette and dropping it with a snort of disdain, the pages crinkling loudly. “You made the front page.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and Gentlemen, They's, and Them's, and those still deciding, here it is, the moment you have all probably been waiting for. I hope this helps get your New Year started off on the right foot. I love you all.

And it goes on, for the rest of our lives  
While it may be hard to navigate this masquerade  
We can still come back to our place with some cheap champagne

My Lover

By Birdtalker

* * *

  
Tim opted to take a short patrol that night: he had been cleared from the roster, but he was wound so tight and an hour of swinging through the city was the self-prescribing treatment he could be manage for the moment.

When he returned home, he was reasonably more relaxed, slipping into an easy sleep, in which he stayed soundly until late in the morning. The sun dripped in ripples through the curtain, and a heavy weight settled on his raised hip, rocking slightly to rouse him.

He opened his bleary eyes, turning his head back to spot Stephine leaning over him, frowning tightly.

“What?” Tim bleated, alarm spreading cold through his suddenly awake body. He pushed forward, Stephanie rolling off with a graceful twist to land beside him on the bed. “Steph, what’s wrong?”

She reached behind her, bringing around the _Gotham Gazette_ and dropping it with a snort of disdain, the pages crinkling loudly. “You made the front page.”

Tim cringed, snatching up the paper, his heart thumping hard as he scanned the bold headline:

_**Timothy Drake-Wayne Meets Tall Dark and Handsome: Billion-Heir Bachelor At Last In Love?** _

_Young, eligible and rich, Timothy Drake-Wayne has continued to elude the public eye in all matters regarding his heart. Never one to give an encouraging word on the subject, his previous appearances with known associates Tamara Fox (a fellow Wayne Enterprise Employee) and former tween girlfriend Stephanie Brown have long been dismissed by the Junior CEO, adamant that his connections with them were far from amorous. Farfetched and difficult to believe that he has not followed the footsteps of either his adoptive father, none other than Gotham’s favorite and most well-loved trust fund playboy Bruce Wayne-- who is never seen without a new pretty piece on his arm-- or his parents, former business tycoons and high school sweethearts Jack and Janet Drake._

_But is he as disinterested in love as he has so determinedly protested?_

_Recent accounts have provided a deeper insight on what could be developing for the young heir, who was spotted at the opening night of_ Cirque De La Lune _, accompanied by a currently unnamed dark-haired gentleman,_ _figure 1_ _. No one has yet been able to confirm the identity of Drake-Wayne’s handsome date, but a reliable source was able to eliminate any current or prior Wayne family associates and that the two arrived and left the event together, parting only when the mystery man was dropped off at a charming neighborhood in Coventry._

_Now what makes this sudden appearance so intriguing? It is that it may not be as sudden as it seems._

_This romance could have been heating up since the heat of summer. Gotham’s annual street fair draws thousands each year, including its own Gotham celebrity. Drake-Wayne, pictured below at the fair_ _figure 2_ _., smiles at a man over a delicious sampling of food. With his back to the camera, we cannot confirm the face matches that as seen below in_ _figure 3_ _. But their body types appear to be identical. If it is not the same man, at least it is clear that Timothy Drake-Wayne has a type. So, who is Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome? And when is Timothy Drake-Wayne going introduce him to his fans?_

_-Vicki Vale_

  
The three pictures attached to the article were of Jason and Tim. The first from the stadium, half obscured by the crowd, Jason’s face was turned less than profile to camera, so that it only caught the underside of his jaw and part of his eye. The second was indeed from the fair, Jason’s back thankfully turned to the camera, making him unidentifiable as Vicki had written. The last picture left him fuming, a cannon-sized hole gnawing through his stomach. The two of them were poised on the buildings stoop, Jason leaning over, Tim’s fingers stopped in time against Jason’s forehead, the angle of the shot creating a flawless illusion that they were mid-kiss.

“Fuck,” Tim seethed, “Mother-shit-fuck-balls, _that bitch_.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Stephanie agreed with spite.

“What time is it?”

“After ten.”

“The whole city has had breakfast and seen this crap?” Tim groaned, “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’ve only been up for twenty minutes,” she explained, “The article popped up on my phone, I grabbed a copy from the lobby, and I came straight here.”

“I need-” Tim paused, tugging in frustration at his hair, “ _Shit_ , I need to call one of the company lawyers.”

“What are you going to do, sue for libel?” Stephanie asked sarcastically.

“I can try!”

“She didn’t actually say anything that wasn’t true, Tim.”

“The pictures, then!” Tim snapped.

Stephanie rolled her eyes, gathering up the paper, “Last time I checked, it wasn’t illegal to publish a picture of two people kissing in a newspaper.”

“We were _not_ kissing! They picked that picture on purpose to make it seem like we were.”

“Okay, well, it’s not captioned _Timothy Fancy Pants Kisses Secret Beef Cake_ , so you still don’t have a case.”

“Oh my god…Bruce,” Tim whined, “Bruce is going to see this…what’s he going to think?”

“What’s Jason going to think?” Stephanie shot back.

Tim paled, lunging for his phone. He had a few messages from Tam, who had seen the article early and was requesting a call as soon as he was able. There was a clear message from Alfred advising their morning paper had been misplaced, but that it might be best for him to make an appearance at the Manor before the end of the day. The most recent was sent not ten minutes ago from Barbara, letting him know that she had made all the places the article appeared online to be unreachable, but there was nothing she would be able to do about the hard copies in circulation. There was nothing yet from Jason.

“He probably doesn’t get the paper,” Tim suggested hopefully.

“He may not get it, but he might certainly read it.”

“Damn it.”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Stephanie sighed, “That awful woman has been trying to turn you into the talk of the town since your parents died, and you basically handed the story to her when you went to such a high-profile event with him.”

Tim deflated at his own obliviousness, “I wasn’t thinking-”

“I know. You just wanted to spend time with him,” Stephanie smiled sadly and understandingly. “Why haven’t you told him already? He’s been back months, you see him often enough, you know exactly how you feel about him. It’s not like you not to seize an opportunity.”

“Jason is not an opportunity, he’s a person. And beyond that, we have a complicated history.”

“Jason has a complicated history with everyone, that’s hardly a reason. You’re afraid to tell him, and I don’t know why. It seems pretty clear that he’d fall into bed with you if you asked.”

“Stephanie!”

“I have seen him,” Stephanie smirked, “Looking at your ass. You must be losing your touch if you haven’t noticed it too.”

“He doesn’t…” Tim flailed, turning red, “We’ve become close, _friendly,_ that doesn’t mean-”

“If I called Roy right now and asked him if he thought Jason liked you, not only would he agree with me, I’m certain he would be able to provide more substantial evidence to prove I’m right.”

“Shit,” Tim gasped, “Roy!”

“What?”

“He does subscribe to the Gazette, in case Jason goes AWOL.”

Tim snatched up his phone again, pulling up his current conversation chain with Jason.

_Let me know when you wake up, I can just bring you your bike._

Stephanie watched with wary confusion, “Okay…and that accomplishes…?”

“I’ll know if he’s seen the article by how he responds,” Tim explained, “Can you do me a favor and contact Roy?”

“And ask what? If he’s seen the paper?”

“Just…fake a question for a case and see if he’s planet-side or not.”

“And what are you going to be doing?”

“I’m going to shower and then I’m going to wait.”

Stephanie raised a disbelieving eyebrow, “That’s your big plan?”

“Sometimes, surveillance is the best course of action,” Tim frowned, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Okay,” Stephanie agreed, her hands lifting flat in submission, “I will text Roy. And I will leave you to your little waiting game, but my advice to you? Stop being a little bitch and go tell Jason how you feel, okay? Love you,” she smiled, blowing him a kiss and leaving his room.

Tim couldn’t even choke out a response. Her blond hair swung rhythmically as she bounced away, too lighthearted for the turmoil he was feeling. The phone was still unresponsive in his hand, so he lofted it slow back onto his bed, treating himself to a cold, jarring shower.

He ended up doing two loads of laundry and washing the hoard of dirty coffee cups that had built up around his sink before he got a response from Jason.

_Sorry, I woke around 3am and went back to my apartment to try and sleep off a hangover._

_You can come by whenever._

The sun had started to set by the time Tim changed out of his house clothes and was pulling out of his buildings’ private parking garage, more relaxed than he had been all day. Stephanie had not made any additional contact, so her attempts to Roy must not have garnered any results, and with Jason having been recluse in nursing his hangover, Tim was confident that the article had not yet impacted their friendship.

The door opened for Tim after a polite series of knocks, Jason standing in front of him, dressed for going out, his hair especially windswept.

“Hey,” Tim greeted, “how are you feeling?”

“Feeling alright,” Jason mumbled, stepping aside to let Tim in, “Sleeping and showering helped. I was getting some fresh air on the fire escape, saw you pulling up.”

“Good,” Tim managed a half smile, “I’m sorry if our night out was stressful for you.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing,” Jason waved him off, retreating towards his living space, “I’m the one who’s sorry, Vicki Vale is a real piece of work.”

Tim halted, his shoes squeaking sharply against the floor. “…what?”

“That kind of article is PR nightmare, right?” Jason asked with a hollow chuckle, worry sliding between his words as he failed to turn around to face Tim.

“You’ve seen it?”

“Uhh, yeah,” Jason confessed, glancing unconsciously towards his kitchen, “Roy passed along news.”

Tim hurried forward, pivoting toward the kitchen with sharp eyes. He spotted a large green bottle standing out of place amongst a paper mess in the otherwise spotless room, “He sent you champagne?”

“Roy and his jokes,” Jason offered, rubbing a hand uncomfortably against the back of his neck.

Tim watched Jason, lost in his bemusement, “It’s just…If he was messing with you, he would send you lube, or condoms, or sex toys. I’ve spent enough time with Roy to know, that’s the kind of thing that would embarrass you.”

“He probably just had it on hand,” Jason muttered stiffly.

“ _Roy_?” Tim scoffed, “Just had a bottle of bubbly lying around? That’s a drink for special occasion, celebrations. That is a gesture of congratulation.”

“I think you’re reading too much into this,” Jason said flatly, trying to pull Tim unsuccessfully away from the kitchen.

“Which means Roy saw the article and thought it best to send you his congratulations…”

“Tim,” Jason started to warn.

“What does he know that I don’t?” Tim asked forcefully, rounding on Jason.

“Nothing,” Jason said emphatically, “He was just jerking me around.”

Tim looked more closely at the crumpled wrapping, the very headline that had flooded him with worry staring back at him, but he also spied a folded piece of paper lying beside it. Jason turned his head, his eyes locking on the note that has captured Tim’s attention. Their eyes snapped back to each other, breath held as the silence began to tighten like a violin string pulled fair past the point of tuning, threating to break.

Jason blinked first, and in that moment, Tim lunged forward, stretched out to snag the paper, Jason’s strong arm catching him around the middle to fling him back. Tim twisted into a back handspring, pushing off his feet once he landed to make a jump for the stool in front of the counter.

Jason intercepted him, grabbing his leg before he could make another jump, pinning him down onto the counter with a crack. He wrapped both hands around his calf, pulling him back as Tim wriggled, kicking to free himself.

“Damn it, Tim, what the hell?” Jason seethed through his teeth, trying to pull Tim back.

Tim grunted, letting go of the ledge, letting the force of Jason’s pull send them flying back. Jason landed hard on his tailbone with Tim legs sprawled across his lap. Freed from Jason’s grasp, Tim made another dive to the kitchen. Jason scrambled to his feet, jumping onto Tim’s back as his fingers closed around Roy’s note. Tim held it as far away from him as he could, Jason desperately clawing to snatch it from out of his grasp.

“Get off.” Tim grunted, shifting frantically to displace him.

“Fuckin’ drop it!”

“No!”

“Tim!”

Jason slid his feet between Tim’s’ leg, trying to trip him, only to make them both fall into the counters, the bottle of champagne crashing to the floor, exploding in a burst of bubbles and glass. Tim’s alertness dropped for just a moment and Jason’s grip tightened to flip him around, holding him forcefully against the counter, his hand closing around Tim’s own, the paper crinkling between their grips.

Tim huffed, his chest pushing up and down rapidly against Jason’s own from the exertion, his cheeks flushed, the crisp fruity smell of alcohol spiraling up through the air, the wet chill of it seeping into the bottom of their pants. Jason’s own cheeks were reddening at their proximity, his eyes darting panicked between Tim’s wide eyes and his parted lips. His fingers tightened around Tim, inhaling sharply, his eyes finally settling on Tim’s own who had continued to stare unblinking.

“Jason…” Tim breathed, his voice trembling, his face inching towards Jason in precious fractions.

Jason dipped his head, Tim thrusting up on his toes to meet Jason in a fervent kiss. Jason might have been embarrassed by the groan of relief that escaped him if Tim hadn’t made equal noises of pleasure, pulling himself up to wrap his arms around Jason’s neck, flitting his hands to hold tight into his hair. With an easy shift back, Jason took Tim’s weight, his fingers digging into his thighs as Tim wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist, locking himself in place and pressing his mouth even harder against Jason’s.

Jason stumbled, making his way blindly to his room, adjusting Tim just enough to drop them on to his bed, Tim falling further into him, his hands beginning to tug earnestly at Jason’s outer layers, pulling his lips away to pepper eager kisses against Jason’s exposed neck.

“Tim,” Jason gasped, propping himself up to try and shake his arms out of his jacket sleeves.

Tim pulled him by the shoulders, returning to the desperate kisses on Jason’s lips, tugging off the leather jacket and throwing it across the room

“Baby Bird…God, Babybirdbabybirdbabybird,” Jason muttered nonsensically into Tim’s neck, his body shaking and thrumming from months of suppressed feeling flooding through his self-constructed gates.

“You should have said something,” Tim whimpered between kisses, pulling every which way on Jason’s shirt. “I didn’t know…I should have…I could have said, I’m sorry-”

“Shhh,” Jason soothed, slipping off the shirt, Tim’s fingers slipping off the fabric and grazing across his chest.

Tim groaned at the sight, flushing hotly before rolling them over, kneeling on either side of Jason’s hips, stripping off his own top layer and crashing back down, his hands framing Jason’s face to kiss him deeply, their chest pressing together in a delightful joining of overheated skin.

Tim’s kisses grew gradually more frantic, Jason hissing out as Tim rocked back suddenly, the building awareness below his stomach responding intently. Tim’s lips released a gasp of his own, his widening eyes with a mortified surprise, his nails, scrapping against Jason’s collar bones.

“Tim,” Jason whispered, his hand’s encircling Tim’s wrist with a gentle pressure. “We need…I think we should stop.” Tim sucked in a sharp breath, pulling suddenly back, Jason’s heart thudding in panic. “No,” he corrected, tugging Tim forward so that their foreheads touched, “No, I just meant for right now. I just think we should slow down, and maybe talk.”

“Oh,” Tim breathed, both with relief and sudden embarrassment, sliding off of Jason, “Yes, yes, you’re right, that’s a good idea.” He grabbed his shirt, turning it right side up and putting it back on with his back to Jason, who in turn used the time to do the same.

Redressed, they sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling self consciously as they took turns not meeting each other’s eyes.

“Sorry about your jacket,” Tim mumbled, spotting it hung over a lamp on his dresser.

“Don’t be,” Jason laughed, “It’s made for worse treatment.”

“So…” Tim drawled, looking at Jason coyly though his lashes, “we should talk…”

“Yeah, we should, probably,” Jason smiled hopefully, looking at Tim’s beautifully rumpled features.

“And probably quickly too, I have to go over and see Bruce tonight about what the paper said.”

“You _what_!?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, even if it wasn't exactly what you thought, it was worth the slow burning wait. If you are feeling generous please let me know what you think, I've never written anything like this before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce appeared in a blink, filling up most of the doorway with his broad frame, brow furrowed and looming. “In,” he commanded, his hand gripping the doorknob.
> 
> Tim moved forward obediently, ready to talk Bruce down.
> 
> “No, not you,” Bruce stopped, turning his sharp gaze to Jason, “I want to speak with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone! Final chapter of this installment, please please enjoy.

And we'll hold on

For the rest of our lives  
We don't have to figure out

What hasn't happened yet   
Through whatever whirls around us

I won't let you forget  
You're my lover

You're my lover

You’re my love

My Lover

By Birdtalker

* * *

The manor door opened with one smooth sweep, Alfred standing erect and proper in the entry. “Master Tim and Master Jason. How beneficial that you’ve arrived together.”

“Hey, Alf,” Jason greeted bashfully.

“Sorry, I’m a little later than I expected,” Tim smiled, wiping his feet politely on the mat and stepping into the house.

Alfred eyed them mischievously, a coy sparkle lightening his features. “It is all well, Master Tim. I’m sure you had much to deal with. Master Bruce is in his office, if you would be so kind as to take yourself there, I’ll go ahead and put on some tea.”

“I can help you, Alfred,” Jason offered, drifting for the first time away from Tim’s side.

“Oh, I won’t hear of it, my boy,” he waved dismissively, “Now, off with you both.”

Tim didn’t argue, grabbing Jason’s hand and pulling him along, gracing him with the occasional sly smile, his fingers shifting and toying against Jason’s own with shy enthusiasm. They parted as they drew close to the office door which was fully open, their footsteps drawing Bruce’s attention, the audible sound of his chair rolling back echoing out into the hall.

Bruce appeared in a blink, filling up most of the doorway with his broad frame, brow furrowed and looming. “In,” he commanded, his hand gripping the doorknob.

Tim moved forward obediently, ready to talk Bruce down.

“No, not you,” Bruce stopped, turning his sharp gaze to Jason, “I want to speak with _him_.”

Jason stiffened, before nodding and following Bruce into the office, shutting the door with a soft click. He took a seat opposite of Bruce, putting on an air of ease in pure defiance of Bruce’s severity.

Bruce continued to scowl, dark and brooding, an electric pulse of seething rolling off of him. He dropped the paper between them without moving his eyes from Jason’s. “You have anything you want to say?”

“Not to you,” Jason huffed.

“Really?”

“I didn’t come here to talk to you. And I don’t have anything to justify to you either. So, if you have something to say go, ahead and say it.”

“Do you love him?” Bruce asked flatly.

Jason’s spine locked, “What?”

Bruce relaxed at Jason's immediate shift, sinking slightly into his chair, “You’ve effectively rejoined the family, both here and in the field. You are healthier and happier than I’ve ever seen you. I can only assume that’s because of Tim. So, I am asking you: do you love him? Because choosing him… choosing to be with him will come with certain expectations. He is different from the rest of us. He has real work and real responsibilities, with a very visible life outside of this.

"You’ll need a public persona, or we will have to resurrect you in some way and deal with what whatever implications come with that. This wouldn't be the last time you end up thrown across the front pages. And if things end between you two, that will end up just as public. I do not want to dissuade you, if this is something you truly want. I know whatever you feel towards me is complicated, but to me, you are both my sons and above whatever else has happened, I want you both to be happy. So, Jaylad, do you feel for Tim even a fraction of what I know he feels for you…Or is this something-” he tapped twice on the paper, “I have to worry about?”

“Not pulling any punches today,” Jason finally grumbled, “Are you, Bruce?”

“You’ve always been forthright with me,” Bruce shrugged, “I want to offer you the same courtesy.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, “I won’t ask for your permission, Bruce. I’m not a kid, my sole aim ain’t to please you anymore.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, nor would I want you to. The only two people who have any say are you and Tim, but I want to be sure you are fully aware of what you are getting into: we don’t have the luxury of making decisions solely based on the desires of our hearts.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you,” Jason smirked coldly.

“I am at peace with the decisions I’ve made,” Bruce frowned. “They weren’t easy. And there are days where I still think about Selina and wonder what would have happened if we made a different choice. But, I believe that we decided to do the right thing.”

“And you don’t think Tim should just do what you did?”

“I don’t presume that what works for me will work for all of you. You are capable of making your own choices. What has been enough for me would never have worked for Dick and Barbara. And what Dick and Barbara decided may not be right for the rest of you. And some day Damian could be having to make these kinds of decisions, and while he may have all your examples to look to, I hope he is able to choose his path for himself.”

“You think he’ll grow up to be that normal?” Jason scoffed.

“I have hope,” Bruce smiled lightly, “He has a lot more positive influence than he used to.”

Jason nodded, his gaze drifting wistfully to the floor, “Am I good enough? For Tim?”

“You don’t want validation.”

“Your honest opinion. You know me, you know Tim. Am I good enough for him?”

“I think you have been good for each other, your brief disappearance notwithstanding. My only concern is that his attachment runs deeper than yours.”

“It doesn’t,” Jason said with a jerk, “We’re…I’m fairly sure he and I are on the same page.”

Bruce nodded again, his fingers steepling thoughtfully, “And are we?”

“You don’t have to worry,” Jason assured him.

“Okay then. You’re free to go,” Bruce cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, “If you could send Tim in, please.”

Jason rose from the chair, opening the door to catch Tim as he paced. Half startled, Tim stalked past Jason, turning as he closed the door to give Jason a nervous smile.

Bruce didn’t have time to move before Tim was dropping himself purposely down, back straight and face forward, poised sharply and unwavering.

“You always manage to keep me on my toes, Tim.”

“I pride myself on being able surprise even you.”

“Perhaps in this case, I am-” Bruce paused thoughtfully, “More surprised than I ought to be. How long has this been going on?”

“That depends on your meaning,” Tim spoke evenly and carefully, adopting his board room voice. “Last night was the first high profile event we attended together. And we did attend the fair for Jason’s birthday, but that was only ever as friends.”

“But you don’t want to be just friends anymore,” Bruce supplied.

“I’ve wanted to be friends with Jason since I first saw him flying across the rooftops. Wanting more than that?” Tim teetered carefully. “That started when he thanked me for his Christmas present. And I was falling in love with him by the time he rescued me from a botched human trafficking mission.”

“A botched _what_?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tim pushed on, “If you are worried about…if you’re concerned about what a relationship could do the team dynamic, I promise that I won’t-”

“No, Tim,” Bruce stopped him, “I am not concerned about any sort of compromise. You’re smarter than any of us, I have no doubt that you’ve thought this through. But I also know the kind of toll your public profile might take on a relationship, and if you wanted to step down from the company, I would understand.”

Tim swallowed hard, his heart dropping down into his stomach, “You want me to step down?” He asked weakly.

“No, that is not what I mean-”

“Do you think my personal life will reflect negatively in the company image?”

“It does not, and even if it did, I wouldn’t care,” Bruce replied vehemently, “Tim, I’m not worried about the company. I’m worried about you. I want you and Jason to be able to succeed, whatever that means.”

“I don’t want to step down,” Tim assured, “The last thing I need is for Vicki Vale to think she’s scared me off, or that I’m ashamed. I’m not.”

“Alright, then,” Bruce smiled, leaning across the desk, “I will leave the next step in your capable hands. I love you, son.”

“I love you too, B,” Tim smiled back, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Tim slid from his chair, exiting the office and jogging down the hall to where Jason had stationed himself resolutely against the wall, his hands buried in his pockets. He turned at Tim’s approach, only half prepared for Tim to throw his arms around him.

“Hey,” Jason crooned, tightening his arms to hold Tim up, “What’s wrong? Did Bruce say something, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tim breathed, pulling back and letting his feet retake his weight, “I’m…it’s okay. Everything is okay, we can…if you still want to, we can do this. For real.”

“Now that Bruce has given his stamp of approval?”

“No,” Tim beamed, “when he called you in there first, I thought it would be the end of both of us on the team. I would never expect you to bend to his will or accept any stipulations he might have on a relationship, I couldn’t have done that, I know that could have put an end to the progress you and Bruce have made, and maybe he knows that too. It’s not his approval, or acceptance that matters to me, Jason, it’s his complete willingness to let us decide for ourselves. For Bruce to let go of the reins like that…it means something bigger.

“I don’t care what Bruce thinks about us, I don’t care what anyone thinks about us. I just want us to be an us, if that’s what you still want. I know it wouldn’t be easy, there are more than a few things that complicate matters, but I’ll do what it takes to try, if that’s what-”

“What I want,” Jason finished for him, his hand coming up to cup Tim’s jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against his cheek. “You’re gonna dress me up in those monkey suits and parade me around all those big events and fundraisers you have to attend. I’m gonna have to help you schmooze and charm, there will be small talk and horribly rich fake people I can’t stand.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s your life. You shouldn’t have to change your life to be with me.”

“And you shouldn’t have to change yours to be with me.”

“I don’t have a life. I don’t exist.”

“Jason…”

“But I could,” Jason whispered, “You shouldn’t have to be with a ghost. And I don’t want to pretend, I don’t want to be Jay Peterson or Jackson Reed or anyone else.”

“Are you serious?” Tim asked, his grip tightening around Jason’s forearms, “You would come back?”

“It won’t be the weirdest thing to happen to this family. Barbara will come up with something. I want to be with you. And I want you to be able to be with the real me.”

“You don’t have to make this decision today.”

“It’s okay," Jason soothed softly, “I made my decision when you let me kiss you back at my apartment.”

Tim withdrew, raising an eyebrow in challenge, “I think you’re confused; I was the one who kissed you.”

“You’re going to take credit for making the first move?!”

“Credit where credit is due, I did make the first move.”

“You did not.”

“My memory is almost perfect, I assure you I-”

Jason bent his head and captured Tim’s lips, his words fading out of existence with a sigh. Tim’s arms wound back around Jason, eagerly retuning the kiss. He brushed Tim’s nose affectionally with his own as he pulled away, watching Tim with slightly hooded eyes. “Can I take credit for that one?”

“Yes,” Tim agreed pliantly, “But we shouldn’t make it a competition.”

“Because you’re too competitive?”

“I’m not competitive, I’m a winner.”

“And I’m not in the mood to put on another kettle,” Alfred’s crisp British tone cut in, “So, if it pleases the young couple to move their tete-a-tete from the hallway to the parlor, you might indulge an old man in the more recent developments in your lives.”

“Sure thing, Alf,” Jason grinned, freely lacing his fingers with Tim’s own and walking them towards Alfred. “You have those little cookies, with the chocolate?”

“Tea without proper biscuits shall not occur under this roof as long as I am around to prevent it.”

“We’d all be lost without you, Alfred,” Tim chimed in.

“Indeed,” Alfred agreed, “Had you two come to me, this could have been resolved months ago.”

“Oh, without a doubt,” Jason hummed, bumping his hip into Tim’s, “but we Bats don’t always do things the easy way.”

Tim laughed, pushing back into Jason’s side as they stepped into the parlor, “We certainly do not.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done y'all! There will be one more installment after this one and then that's it. We are coming to end, but hopefully its been a good journey for everyone :) Let me know what you think, and please keep staying safe and healthy. Love you <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you think, I will always reply. Please also keep a look for...A Jay/Tim AU I will be putting out shortly. It's onw of two AU's I've been wanting to write, and I usually try not to work on more than one piece at once, but since this is the second to last installment of Birdtalker I am breaking my own rule.


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